Companions
by Katrina Marie Lupin
Summary: With a sigh, the Doctor settled into his own bed, the desk crammed into the corner holding a lamp that he tilted to face him as he opened a black, hardcover notebook. Inside, he had sketches and narratives of his past adventures, a random sudoku or crypto


With a sigh, the Doctor settled into his own bed, the desk crammed into the corner holding a lamp that he tilted to face him as he opened a black, hardcover notebook. Inside, he had sketches and narratives of his past adventures, a random sudoku or cryptogram here and there. This was a book of various things, and today, he felt poetic. His weary soul grasped for the nearest writing utensil, and absently, he wrote a name, one letter at a time, down the margin of the page. He considered an anagram, and just started writing.  
'Rose Tyler'  
The first letter that called out to him was the "Y". "Young.  
'She was young - so young,' he wrote. 'Only nineteen years old, when I met her. I didn't mean to ruin her life'  
It was true, but what had been done, had been done. There wasn't much he could do now. She was in a happier place now. He wanted to note that she was "clever", but there was no "C". There was an "S", though.  
'Smart, clever. She was a great companion, and I could always depend on her to come up with brilliant when I was all out of ideas'  
Pleased, he ticked off the two letters, looking down at the remaining characters, letting the words come to him.  
"Loyal.  
'She was loyal. She never once doubted me. She trusted and believed in me, even when I didn't'  
He thought back to his last day in his last body, when she'd told him that she'd always known he would come for her. He had to admit that he had had his doubts.  
He purveyed the letters again. He found he liked this game.  
"E" - 'Energetic. She was always able to keep up with me, and often exceeded my expectations. She had a bad habit of ignoring my order to stay put, but every one does. I don't know why I bother to say it anymore, to be honest'  
He remembered, back when they'd been in WWI England, picking up a cat from a nearby dustbin and complaining about that, too. It was wonder.  
"R" - 'Resourceful. It was hard to catch her off guard, or unprotected. I can just think back to the first time we had an adventure together, when she plucked a rope out of nowhere (at least, I hadn't seen it) and found a way to proverbially take down two birds with one stone, though it was really two Autons and the nestene Consciousness with one kick'  
He remembered gaping at her, not believing she was honestly playing Tarzan right underneath the Thames. It was rather fantastic, to be honest.  
"T" - 'She was so tough. She was fearless, and knew what was the important thing - she always thought of how to get the job done, how to save those in danger, and how to do it best, and she never once asked me if we could run away - a bravery and toughness that I must admit, I'd admired in her, and I felt bad that she sometimes had more faith than I in a given situation'  
He remembered countless times where he'd been at his wit's end, about to give up hope because he couldn't think of what to do next when she had given him her trust, and it was the need to not disappoint her that kept him going.  
Now, it was getting trickier. The three remaining letters stared back up at him like school children, waiting for their turn to be chosen by the team captain. Deciding that, after all, since it was his game, and he could make the rules and break them and change them however he pleased, and smirked to himself as he played on the "O.  
'She was always on top of things. When I asked her to get something done, she'd do it, didn't whine or fuss - except when I told her to stay behind (she could never leave a fight - "too good", she'd said once) but then again, she didn't want to miss out on the adventure'  
He remembered that day, when he'd been working there, knowing there was no way he would finish that wave in time. And, if he did, there was no way he could set it off without destroying her along with the rest of the Earth. He'd offered her the chance to ask him to take them away. He had a duty, it was true, but if she'd asked him to just walk away, to just go somewhere else, he would have done it happily. He had actually wanted her to ask him, wanted her to be selfish for once in her life, wanted her to ask him, so that he could get her out of there and take her far, far away. He might've regretted it later, but he so wanted to hear her ask him, so he could say, 'yes'. But she hadn't. She was determined to save the world, and stay by his side as she did.  
He ticked off the "O", the last two letters gazing up at him. He was almost done, and there was that sense of pride one had when the puzzle was so nearly finished that you could tell exactly what the picture was, and you were left only with spare holes, and those were easily finished.  
Although... when a puzzle was missing pieces, this was when you could count the wholes and the pieces and know if you were missing something.  
With a quiet sigh, he knelt his head back and looked up at the ceiling of his room. The burnt orange he'd painted it in shortly after traveling again after the Time War still glowed with the warmth of the Gallifreyan skies. Although there were no twin suns, he could imagine himself lying in the deep, red grass of his home planet, and it brought him comfort.  
He let his mind wander about his precious Rose. There was so much to say, but he limited himself to these words - so he could fine tune his clever mind, play a game to pass away the time, and so he could reminisce about her in safety. There was no torturous glass hiding her picture in a cage, no ghostly visions of girls who weren't standing there, no shadowous prescence to join him as he slept. This was only words, although words were the most powerful.  
He found the next letter. "E.  
'She was also eternally worried about me,' he wrote, knowing that he had always been eternally worried about her, as well. 'I remember, on that hunk of rock, floating in a Black Hole, when we were abandoned, my TARDIS lost to space, she didn't panic, she didn't squeal, she didn't freak, she tried to comfort me. Tried to lighten me up with talk of mortgages, of all things. And she said that it wouldn't be so bad if she got 'stuck' with me. And to be honest, I wouldn't be upset to be 'stuck' with her either.  
He thought back to their second goodbye on that Bad Wolf Bay. He thought to that moment of truth, when she had asked him that question... and he'd answered wrong. But his mortal counterpart had chosen their love to be more important than his duty as a Time Lord, because he was free to do so. He would not live forever, and thereby be haunted by her all of his days. He would live a short time, and with her. He was unafraid to tell her what he'd wanted so very much to say, and in a way, that made that one-hearted bastard better than him, and that killed him.  
'...but she's stuck with another me, now,' he finished. She would get to live forever after with her Doctor, like she'd always dreamed. And he would get to live a normal life, with her, like he'd always dreamed. Granted, only one of them would move on to "the Domestic Life" and one of them would continue on with the penance of a Time Lord, and to be honest, it wasn't fair that he was the one who was stuck with the penance while he got her. He was the one who'd committed genocide, after all. Through all he'd sacrificed, didn't he deserve to get the girl?  
Even as he sighed, he looked down at the last letter. Another "R". Rose, Rose Tyler.  
'But above all, I will always remember her. Her bright hazel eyes, her sassy cockney jabber, the way she'd stick her tongue out inbetween her teeth, the way she didn't settle. She will always be remembered, no matter how much longer I live.' 


End file.
